Finding a Way Underneath the Surface
by c1araoswa1d
Summary: Tumblr Whouffle Prompt: Can you do a one shot in where 12 and Clara get stuck in the TARDIS and they end up looking out at space and 'fun' ensues.


They've readied themselves to see the volcanoes of a newborn planet, both donning red space suits that sat too large on their thin frames, Clara's belted thrice to keep the legs in a condition to allow her to walk. And they were sharing a seldom heard giggle, Clara watching the glee that settled into the older face that turned back to the controls, hands working carefully to swing them through the time vortex. In truth, she missed the shaking that used to accompany their travels and she still held the console tightly when they travelled, as though it might suddenly come to life again.

As though _he_ might _suddenly_ come to life.

Because it's sometimes how she viewed him – as though he'd regenerated, but he still hadn't fully woken. Still sulking underneath the remnants of a past life and his inability to reconcile it with his current status. With his new face and his new body and his new harden hearts. Clara smirked as she watched him, excited thudding starting in her chest as he pointed to her and offered, "Everything new, Clara. Everything bright and shining – figuratively speaking."

It was almost as it'd been before and she knew, if she closed her eyes and reached out, she could imagine it was exactly as it'd been before. He would give her finger a wiggle and he would laugh. She was getting used to his new laugh, even though she seldom heard it. It was locked in her memory, plucked to the front of her mind when she was sad because it was like this planet – _he was like this planet_ – a very new thing, full of surprises and volcanic explosions of the unexpected.

"Why do you look at me like that?" He asked her, eyes trained on her as he remained hunched in front of the console panel, hand holding tight to a lever as his smile faded slightly – leaving his face in a state of something Clara couldn't quite make out. Curiosity, _yes_, but something deeper.

_Expectation_?

She shrugged, body twisting towards him slightly before straightening as she trained her eyes on the buttons lighting up in front of her. "It's just you," she smiled up at him, "You still manage to shock me sometimes."

And there came his laugh, his head tilting back as his mouth opened almost soundlessly, because that was his laugh – an almost timid series of breaths, as though he'd been afraid to release them. Maybe, Clara considered, he had been. He'd been fairly walled in since his regeneration, letting only the anger of his enemies and the frustration of his inferiors escape.

Except around _her_.

There was a softening when he was with her.

And _occasionally_ he allowed himself to laugh with her.

"Shock," the Doctor repeated, "I didn't realize I was capable of shocking the great Clara Oswald; potential ruler of galaxies, queen of the forests and," he leaned towards her, ending darkly, "Impossible girl."

Clara merely smirked, watching the grin that warmed his lips and then the ship gave a lurch that had them both looking to the console for a reason. One Clara wouldn't understand either way as what flashed on the screen popped and scrolled in Gallifreyan and hers was… a _memory_. Clara stepped on tip toe, frowning as she pouted up at the circles and dots and then she pointed.

"Power surge," she uttered.

"Glad you've caught the important bits," the Doctor groaned, demeanor shifting suddenly as he rushed around her, "Wouldn't want to sully the evening with an explanation."

"Doctor, what's wrong?" Clara demanded.

His head gave a roll as he peered across the console at her and stated, "_Explanation_."

"Yes," she nodded, "_Sully_ the evening and _explain_."

He gestured, "She's in the right quadrant, but the birth of a new star – sometimes creates a bit of a drain on its surroundings, or the opposite, sends out waves of overwhelming radiation and the Tardis wasn't expecting it."

"Power surge," Clara repeated.

Chuckling to himself, he bent and yanked on a panel underneath, dropping to his back and jamming his head inside before Clara heard him shout out, "Oh, you _brute_, you've tried to suck it up like a string of pasta – serves you right, choking on the meatballs."

"Doctor?" Clara asked, bending slightly and watching his head turn to give her a wide eyed look of anger before he slid back out and swung his Sonic at the hole, buzzing it loudly and then stomping around the console and giving it random bursts.

"She's tried to feed off the radiation, got a bit," he waved a hand at his neck, "Stuck in her throat, so to speak."

"Will she be ok?" Clara questioned honestly, concerned, and she found herself giving the console metal soft strokes of her fingers, ones the Doctor looked to as he swallowed roughly and nodded.

He stepped towards her and turned the Sonic in his hand, letting his lips part as he glanced sideways at the dimming lights to tell her, "Just needs a bit of rest is all. Good as new in a few hours."

"So we're stuck up here in limbo until then," Clara sighed, watching the way he avoided her eyes and continued to look down at her right hand, fingers slowly moving in soothing circles. "Doctor?"

Blinking, he shifted back and made his way to the doors, pulling them open to groan out at the stars and the bright red planet in front of them. One, Clara could see as she approached him, lined with jagged cracks in its crust, oozing molten lava in rivers large enough to be seen from their orbit. She bent and moved under his left arm, clinging to the Tardis door to look down at it sadly.

"Thought it'd be more cheerful," she lamented.

He laughed sarcastically and then stared down at her, "Cheerful? The birth of a planet is exciting, but it's never _cheerful_. It's a broken outer crust clawing at its own face, each bit fighting for dominance – for _surface space_. It's raw and burning, churning rock and fire…"

"That sounds terrible," she interrupted sadly.

"Well, you pop an infant out a hole the size of a lemon after it spends nine months re-arranging your intestines," his mouth curved towards her to mockingly say, "Doesn't sound quite pleasant from where I'm standing either."

"New lives; new planets." Clara smiled up at him, "Not always _cheerful_, but it's always _beautiful_."

He turned with a retort, but it froze in his throat when Clara giggled up at him and then he managed to utter, "And now it's also _funny_."

Shaking her head, she bit her lip and then let it slide out to tell him, "_You're_ funny – do you _really_ not find the beauty in the universe anymore? Would say it's a sad day for the universe if _the Doctor_ couldn't see the beauty in it."

Staring, the Doctor watched her lower her eyes to her feet before she looked out at the planet, and then he finally told her, "I'm capable of seeing beauty."

"Are ya?" She teased, head tilting as it rose to glance at him.

"Do _you_?" He prompted.

Clara looked him over carefully, eyes roaming his face and collar and then looking to the hands that were clasped on either side of him. She offered him a sigh and then turned her attention to the planet and nodded. "I can see beyond the newly lined surface to the _promise_. I can see through the _churning rock and fire_ to what's truly going on underneath: a new planet forming itself from the remnants of others floating about in the universe. One day that will be home to someone and that's beautiful."

His hand lifted in spite of himself and touched her cheek, knuckles brushing the smooth skin, and then it fell away and he turned and walked towards the console, clearing his throat and barking, "Should close the door," then he gestured back at her, "You could take a nap or something, grade some papers or read a book. Could take a few hours to power up again."

Fingers slipping over the side of her own face, she looked out at the stars and frowned, taking a step backwards to close the doors and she laid her fingertips to the wooden surface as she lowered her head to watch her trembling hands. Could she see the beauty in him? _Was that what he'd asked_? Of course she did, she thought to herself with a shy smile. Clara took a long breath and she turned to watch him as he went back to taking measurements of the Tardis, looking to his Sonic curiously between quick glances at her.

Reaching up, she undid the buckle of each of the belts holding her suit on, then tugged on the chord she'd tied to the zipper at her back until she let the suit drop to the ground, straightening the blue thermal long-sleeved shirt over the matching thermal trousers she wore. Clara could feel the Doctor's eyes on her as she picked the suit up, moved onto the console, and hung it over the railing before she made her way to him, stepping up to grab hold of his zipper to drag it down over his back, feeling him tense.

"No sense in wearing these for a while then now, is there?" She told him quietly.

"Quite capable of undressing myself, Clara," he responded hesitantly.

Her hands stilled just underneath his ribs and she released a small cough of a laugh before clasping her hands together and moving to his side with a simple, "Of course."

Shrugging his arms out of the suit, he let it hang at his waist as he settled the Sonic on the console and typed into it slowly, passing small looks at the woman now leaning her back against the edge, some thought on her mind as she stared down at her fingers, working anxiously against one another. He looked away swiftly when she turned, her eyes narrowed at him – not in anger, but in curiosity – and she pushed her lips together.

"Care to break the silence with the thought," he managed.

"_Modesty_," she stated simply before shaking her head, "Didn't used to be an issue for you."

Nodding at her thermal trousers, his eyes widened as he snapped, "Used to be for you – things _change_, apparently."

"_Ha_," she breathed. Then she frowned and asked, "Does it bother you now?"

He frowned in her direction and furrowed his brow, looking to the readings that told him they would have another two hours and twenty seven minutes sitting dormant. With a small shake of his head, he gestured up at the top floor of the console space, "Pick a historical figure, someone _real_, someone _exciting_. Someone you'd like to know more about. When I get this impulsive minx back up and running, we'll have a go."

"The Doctor," she responded instantly, stepping towards him.

"_Clara_," he replied softly.

But she shook her head, "I want to know about the Doctor. I want to understand what's going on in his head, _right now_." Clara stepped next to him and she told him with a nod, "I want to _have a go_."

"No," he responded sternly, refusing to look to her again, instead pressing his knuckles to the console and staring down at the controls and going over them in his mind. Controls that managed their directional velocity, controls that handled oxygen levels and brake pressure and… _Clara took a step closer_.

He could hear her breathing quicken and then she covered his right hand with hers and called, "Doctor."

"No, Clara," he barked, ripping his fist out of her grasp and turning away, taking several steps away before she called his name again. "Find a book, find some distraction – but it won't be me."

"You are not a _distraction_," Clara argued.

"No," he laughed, pointing a finger at her, "I'm a _hobby_."

Clara chuckled nervously and she turned to lean against the console again and in the dim lights, he couldn't tell if she was crying or laughing, but he could see the gentle shakes her shoulders gave before she took a long breath and sighed, "You used to tell me _everything_."

"I tell you what's _relevant_," he told her sternly.

She laughed, weakly, and crossed her arms over her chest. "Then you're not the same man. You're not the man I _met_; not the man I _knew_; not the man I…" Clara stopped herself suddenly and she swiped a hand over her right cheek and the Doctor felt the tension in his body melt away knowing he'd hurt her. He'd hurt her by not being _him_ and it burned him up inside because he didn't think he was capable. Not in this _body_, not with this _mind_.

"Clara," he said sadly. "I am the same man."

"_Yeah_," she sighed sarcastically.

He could hear the unspoken dare in the breath that followed. The dare she'd never call aloud from a part of herself too scared to admit it existed – the part of her that wanted him to _prove_ it; the part of her that had tried desperately to see beyond the change of his face to the soul inside; the part of her that had been _begging_ him to prove it was that same soul for weeks as they travelled amongst the stars. The part he knew, in a few short moments, she would hide away again as she walked through the corridor towards a random room to bide her time before they headed out again.

As if nothing had been said.

He reached back and gave the zipper one final tug and pushed it to the ground, stepping out of it and walking a circle around the console, calling, "You still don't quite believe it, do you." He moved to stand in front of her, watching her reddened eyes lift to stare into the chest of his own thermal top, "You say you can see the promise beyond the cracked surface and yet you can't see who I am behind this face." Clara looked up at him, "You…" he began slowly, one finger lifting to point, but he could see it in her eyes.

She could see him clearly.

But like the planet outside, the Doctor she craved stood just out of reach, emitting too much _poisonous_ _radiation_ for her to explore the way she wanted to. And he inhaled sharply at the thought. It'd never been about the face; it'd been about his actions. About his insults and his rigidity and his reluctance with her – nothing like he'd been before because the man he'd been before? That man would have cupped her cheeks in his hands. He would have pressed his lips to her forehead to soak in the warmth of her sadness in an attempt to take it away.

Clara's eyes held onto the longing she felt and then they turned away from him in disappointment as she muttered, "I'll find a book. You've got volumes from the library of Alexandria you said once, buried away somewhere…"

He reached out and his hand stopped just beside her jaw, fingers steady as he contemplated the small intake of breath and the way she turned back towards it and he laughed, admitting, "Meet me halfway, Clara." And she shifted, lifting her head to look at him as she settled her face in his palm. "I'm trying," he breathed. "It's…" he trailed, watching her tears as she closed her eyes and leaned into his hand firmly, "Difficult."

She smiled, a small smile that made his hearts flutter, and then she sighed, "It doesn't have to be."

"This mind is all thoughts, it's all questions and quandaries, it's all muddled resolutions..."

"Then ask a question," she stated firmly, stopping him.

He nodded slowly as her hand came up to meet his, holding it to her face as she kissed it lightly and smiled up at him hopefully. The Doctor wanted to ask her a thousand things. He'd been forming a list of questions to ask her – a list of questions he knew he never could – and in that moment they rushed together into a mass of nonsense he could only chuckle at.

What is that smell you wear? Why do you make your eyes do that thing when you're happy? What is it about your nose that fascinates me? Why haven't you worn that skirt in months – the flowery one that twirls just right enough to make me mad? How do the rays of the sun ignore the physics of reality by being brighter against your hair? What is that glow on your skin before an adventure? What is that wary look when you leave? What do you feel when you've gone stoic? And in that moment, what have I said wrong? Why do you pick at your fingers when you're nervous? Why do you laugh when you're sad?

_Why do you put up with me_?

His thoughts were turned to static when, in his momentary distraction to think of them, she lifted herself to meet her lips to his. Somehow he always imagined they'd be soft. He always imagined they'd be delicate because yes, he had thought about the feel of those lips and the way they'd curve up into a satisfied smile if he ever got the chance to explore them. Of course, he never imagined how his hearts would send far too much blood through their chambers and how they would make his head feel empty and how they would drive him forward, grinding her against the console on instinct.

Clara inhaled sharply as his hand slipped away and planted itself at her sides against the mechanics behind her and she moaned into him, high pitched and full of longing, wishing those fingers would curl around the flesh of her hips to hold her tightly. For a moment she thought he might push away and shout at her.

_This is crossing a boundary, Clara._

_This isn't really what you want, Clara. _

_I'm just another fantasy you shouldn't indulge, Clara._

Except he did no such thing.

He pushed at her mouth with his, parting her lips and giving her tongue a wetting of his own and Clara thought she might lose her breath. And then his hands twitched at her side, as though working to disobey a direct order from his mind, and they quickly gripped at her as she sighed into him. They held her in place and then, in one swift motion, he lifted her off the ground and planted her on the console, his lips leaving hers with a muted smack before falling to her collar as her fingers wove themselves through the thick greying curls atop his head.

Clara exhaled raggedly against his temple as he tasted his way up her neck and then pulled her earlobe between his teeth a moment, letting it slip free as he pressed himself to her. Lifting her legs, Clara half-wrapped them around him, and she released a small chuckle into his ear, feeling his hardening length shifting against her slightly.

"That a Time Lord trick," she managed, "Two thousand years and still saluting?"

He dropped his forehead to her shoulders, his hands slowly slipping underneath her top to massage at her body, eventually cupping over her breasts and thumbing at her nipples, "That a human trick? Nothing on underneath?"

"Got lazy," she sighed, shifting back and letting him pull the thermal top over her head and before she could find another quip, his tongue was on her, lapping a circle around right breast before latching on to make her lurch into him. She swore she heard him laugh as he shifted to her left and Clara kissed at the top of his head and then she laid her cheek to it as his fingers slipped under the waistband of her trousers to take hold of them and tug them under her backside.

He let them sit at her knees and he backed away, face flustered, lips swollen, small speckle of sweat at his brow as he nodded and uttered, "Question."

Clara's hands, settled lightly on his shoulders, lifted to hold up her forefingers just before she pushed the thermal trousers down to her ankles and kicked them away, exposing herself fully to him and waiting. She watched him blink rapidly as he took her in, as though he were taking snapshots in his mind. Every inch of her naked body sat atop his Tardis console, waiting for him to decide whether he wanted to accept her offer, because Clara was offering him complete access to her and she was terrified he would suddenly turn and walk away.

She was terrified he would _reject_ her.

And she knew he had every right to and she would have to pick up her broken heart and find some place to pass the time before they moved on with their adventure, both pretending what had just happened… _hadn't_. But he gave her a small grin, a shy grin, the grin she always caught on his face when she'd been looking away too long and glanced up to catch him staring.

He rubbed at himself lightly, face contorting against the painful pleasure, and he then raised his right hand to her left thigh, laying it gently atop her. His thumb moved over the crop of neatly trimmed hair between her legs and he swiped delicately over her, then repeated the motion several times, staring down at her before glancing up as her chest rose with each jolt he sent up through her body on each caress.

"Answer, Doctor," Clara told him breathlessly, "Is yes."

He laughed, "You don't know what the question is."

"Don't care," she replied quietly, "Answer is yes."

Meeting her gaze, he smiled, an awkward and crooked smile, and then he kissed her again as his hand shifted, cupping over her before beginning to slide over her, tip of his middle finger threatening to enter her on each downward curve before slipping back up. For a few minutes she thought he was being hesitant, but then she realized she was squirming, body shifting to try and match his strokes – body begging him to break past that point – and when he did, she cried out unexpectedly.

Her body bucked against him and her left arm came up around his shoulders, her right hand planted into his shoulder and her eyes clamped shut against the steady movements of his careful digits into her. Her hand worked its way from his shoulder to touch his cheek before her fingertips trailed over his chest and then scraped lightly over his erection, a motion that elicited a hoarse groan and stilled him. With a small chuckle, Clara palmed him and she lifted her head, finally able to think straight without him working at her.

"Enough with the foreplay," she sighed.

"Never cared much for the formalities anyways," he grumbled.

And they laughed together for a moment as his hand came away from her to tug the waistband of his thermals down enough to relieve himself of them. Clara smiled at the liberation that washed over his features as the trousers fell to the ground and when his head tilted forward, she met him with her forehead. She watched him stroke at himself and she inhaled when he shifted forward, positioning at her entrance before pushing off her head and giving her a look of curiosity. A look of pure wonder she'd grown fond of in this face and she nodded slowly, widening her legs slightly and bringing her palms up to his shoulders to slide to his neck, thumbs shifting against his skin.

His brow dropped in concentration and without breaking eye contact with her, he slowly pushed forward, embedding himself within her as his breath trickled out between his lips. Clara mouth opened slightly and she took a small breath, a light moan escaping when he withdrew, but then he shifted forward again and she closed her eyes, smiling when he kissed her again.

Her arms wrapped around his neck as he stepped closer and began to rock against her in a quickening pace as his tongue worked over hers. Clara broke the kiss to lean her neck back, arching her body into him and giggling lowly when she felt his lips on her neck and then her collar, dipping to occasionally take a breast into his mouth to tease. Then he pulled her back towards him, cool hands circling her back as he sucked at her skin in a way she knew would leave a welt or two in her left shoulder. Clara dropped her head to press her temple into his, feeling him nudge back as his thrusts deepened and she could feel her muscles tightening.

Lifting her knees slightly, she dropped kisses at his cheek and then took his face in her hands, nuzzling his nose lightly with her own before clamping her mouth to his. Clara moped with the need to reach her climax and the Doctor grunted in response, his hands sliding to her buttocks to pull her closer to the edge and then he leaned over her and she thought to joke she was glad it was the flat panel with the psychic interface, but he began arching up into her in a way that colored her vision red and gold as she dropped her head back and shouted, hands digging into his hair.

He straightened, hands roaming over her body, massaging at her until his fingers were curled over her hips again and Clara reached for him, hearing him give a chuckle just as she gripped his wrists. She could feel him shifting her body into his in rhythm with his upward thrusts and she opened her eyes to look up at the stilled time rotor above her before she dropped her gaze to his. To the lustful stare and the small shifts in his features that told her he was nearly spent himself.

And just as he coughed an exasperated groan, spilling himself into her, Clara gasped, tightening her hold on him as her body convulsed, jerking towards him as his hands slid up her sides again, the Doctor bending to kiss at her stomach and chest as he slowed his motions with an occasional small grunt and shift of his body up into her. Swallowing dryly, Clara heaved, smiling when she glanced down to see the head of curly grey hair rising and falling atop her bosom.

They lay there silently for long enough that Clara feared he might have fallen asleep and she brushed a hand over his hair, feeling the edge of his lips shift against her before he turned his head, resting his chin playfully between her breasts. "You're amazin'," she breathed.

"High compliment, coming from you," he responded, and she could see his cheeks tinged pink by his words just as she felt hers were.

He planted his palms on either side of her, lifting himself up just enough for his hips to bury himself in her one last time, she knew, to feel the way it sent another small wave of tremors through her; to watch the way those tremors wrinkled her brow and made her sigh with delight. The Doctor chuckled as she tried to steady her breathing, and then he slipped away, pulling at the thermal trousers around his ankles before retrieving her thermal top to hold as he helped her sit up.

Pulling it over her head, he rubbed at her shoulders and he kissed each of her cheeks and then her forehead before locking onto her lips again. Clara was surprised at the gentleness with which his mouth worked over hers and she held to either side of his shirt as they lazily kissed away the time. An hour later they were on the surface of the planet, suits secure to their bodies, grinning like fools over a river of lava and then marveling at a bubbling lake.

Eventually, the Doctor assured, the lava would cool and the crust would harden and life would begin. The lake would settle and microorganisms would ooze out and evolve. "_Everything_, Clara, everything starts right here," he smiled back at her, calling through the glass and gesturing at the bubbles that emitted gasses she knew would kill them if they removed their helmets, "Right now."

Nodding, she approached him, reaching out to take his gloved hand.

"And you were right," he breathed, offering a crooked grin.

Clara shook her head, asking quickly, "About what?"

"Seeing beneath the surface, finding the possibility," he breathed hoarsely, bending slightly to smile and let his free hand lift to spread his fingers wide before curling them back in as he finished, "It's beautiful."


End file.
